Chapter XXXV The Trap is Set

 

 

That evening I finally had my showdown meeting with Andy Trosser in the front lounge at his mother’s house. I took Meena with me and Noel found time to accompany us too. 

The police had arrived very promptly at Noel’s house after my call to Roger and were exceptionally polite and efficient. Elizabeth felt fussed over and pampered as if she was royalty and the girls were thrilled to have all the attention too, especially as they were hardly aware of what all this was in aid of. It was agreed that a policewoman accompany the girls to and from school for the last 4 days of term. Noel felt confident enough to leave his family with a visible police presence to ensure peace of mind and joined me in the crucial meeting with Andy. I was very pleased he came as it also gave me a chance to give both Meena and Noel a fuller rounded picture as I presented the matter to Andy.

It also suited me to have my two loyal colleagues with me in order to avoid having any unnecessary discussions with Andy about our mutual presence on the Love Boat. After all we were both aware that this was not a respectable event for a public figure to attend, no matter how low down the hierarchy of celebrity, and that we were both taking unnecessary risks in being there at all, whatever our role. So the least said about it the better.

I preferred Andy to have his say first before the new evidence was presented to him. His knowledge of the planning application was very rudimentary and he had not been at the site visit as he was not yet then a member of the Planning Committee. Yet he was very upbeat about why it was vital to hold the line in supporting the application and resist public pressure in view of all the community benefits. When those benefits became obvious people’s conception of the development would eventually change. The next elections were three years away and so there was plenty of time for the public mood to change. Why only that morning, Ted Grayson had been on the line to him, stressing the need to help me in getting this item through Committee as seamlessly as possible. He understood that on our side I had everything pretty much tied up, he said, and only Perera and Potts may still be a problem. So he had talked to both of them at Ted’s insistence. Potts had agreed to vote for the project but Perera was still very difficult. “He gave me a load of ideological baloney,” laughed Andy. “He even implied that you yourself were against the application, Peter. What a stupid arse-hole. We’ll have to take him off this Committee next year, I think.” I had let him drone on with these comments, but it was now time to enlighten him.

“I don’t mind you removing him,” I concurred. “I think Perera is an anachronistic liability now. But this ‘stupid arse-hole’ was right about one thing.”

“What’s that, Peter?”

“I am against the application and I will be voting against the project on Tuesday.”

 “And so, will I” added Noel emphatically. He looked at me as he said this. I slapped him on his shoulder.

 “For heaven’s sake, why? What’s going on, Peter. Have you cleared this with Ted?” He could not have been more astonished. Perhaps even more astonished than when he realized that Susan and I had been watching his caning ceremony on the Love Boat.

“Not really, Andy. I’m afraid that Ted is as bent as Uri Geller’s spoon.”

For the next hour and a half we talked through the whole issue. Backwards and forwards. One by one, I put out all my cards on the table as much for the benefit of Noel and Meena as of Andy. I explained about the fabricated duplicate plans, about the phoney elements of community gain, about the secret plans for the storage space for weapons deep below the development, about Sheremovsky’s ambitions to move his operating headquarters and his billions of petro-roubles into Britain, about his bribes to at least 3 of our planning officers of whom Finneston was one, and his hold over the two party leaders in Framden as well as several other Framden councillors. I mentioned my conversation with Lord Smallbridge during his wedding. Then I mentioned the intimidation and the cooperation with Special Branch. I let Noel describe his wife’s ordeal.

“Now, Andy” I concluded, “you are going to have to be counted. I don’t know how close you are to Ted Grayson, and what sense of loyalty you feel towards him, but he must know nothing about this until after the meeting on Tuesday.”

“Peter, this is total poppycock. How do you know that this has any grain of truth? How can you trust the Special Branch? Is this guy for real?”

I played the trump card. I read out the e-mailed letter from Sir William Tallis.

“Tallis?” asked Andy. “I heard on the news this morning that he had been badly hurt in an accident. It sounded so serious I thought he had been killed.”

“Tallis in an accident?” Noel suddenly came to life. “Hey, man, I didn’t know that?”

“It’s OK, Noel; I didn’t want to mention it in front of Elizabeth. He’s under police protection now and they’re disguising it as a serious accident. In fact it was only a minor one. He’s going to be OK.”

“And where does Owen Draycott fit into all this?” asked Andy.

I had genuinely forgotten about our straying MP. I explained the government connection and the sales of discounted drilling equipment to the North Sea oil fields.

Andy sat there in silence, shaking his head. We waited politely for his reaction.

“But if we turn down this application, aren’t we left with a derelict site?”

“Good point, Andy,” I said a little patronisingly. “Tesco have plans for the site and had tentatively approached our Planning Department to discuss it. Finneston never even replied to them and never briefed us about it. I’ve told my own insider planner to give the secret nod to Tesco that we may be interested after Tuesday and to keep their plans on hold. We don’t want them going to another Borough. That’s an added reason to kill the Russian application there and then on Tuesday and not just postpone it.”

“Don’t we have too many supermarkets already? They increase car traffic and they slowly strangle our traditional town-centres. You have argued that yourself in the past.”

“True, Andy, but this scheme has cheap housing provision as well, and community facilities. And the policy now is to grant permission for new supermarkets where there is additional bus route provision.”

Andy nodded. “Look I’m still having to take all this in. I’m amazed about Grayson. I’m shocked, actually. I’m going to confront him here and now.”

“No, don’t. This is also partly a police operation. We need to know who else is involved. Who else will put pressure on us for the scheme to go through? We are watching Bill Kitson in particular and Donald McClintock. The police have inside knowledge on the operation of a Russian slush fund and they can trace where it has gone. It’s more a question of what the beneficiaries do as a result. Because some of the bribes are actually unsolicited. Accepting an unsolicited gift is not actually a crime in itself but it should be declared in your register of interests.”

“OK, OK, I know the law!” snapped Andy. There was more silence. It was a long pregnant silence where each of us reviewed the last hour of exchanged information and the memorable events of the last two weeks which preceded it. Suddenly I had a feeling of panic. What if Andy had been leading us on, all along? What if he was secretly in cahoots with Ted Grayson and would now spill the beans?  I was feeling very queasy. I looked at Meena who was looking at me intently and slightly, just slightly, shaking her head.

Andy’s mother popped her head round the lounge door. “Everybody ready for tea and cakes?”

“Sure, mumsy, bring them in. Help yourself lads. And Meena.” His mother rolled in a trolley with an old fashioned teapot and cosy, as well as some Mr Kipling Bakewell tarts and lemon sponges. “Let me just pop round to the loo. I’ll only be a minute,” said Andy, getting up.

We chatted first with Mrs Trosser and then when she left we talked quietly amongst ourselves.

“Is the fish biting?” asked Noel. “I ain’t so sure, man.”

“I think he’s got hang ups,” said Meena. “I think he made promises to Ted. I believe the two of them go back a long way. Ten years at least. Now he has to decide if he can keep those promises or go in with us.”

“It ain’t just promises to Ted,” added Noel with concern. “Did you see him stiffen up when Peter mentioned unsolicited gifts? I smell a rat, man. Where is he anyway? It doesn’t take nearly ten minutes to pee.”

“He’s a careful man,” I concurred. “All he is thinking about is to sustain our party’s control of this Borough. He sees the advantage of going with the popular mood on this issue in the short term and he is against our party getting besmirched with bribery and corruption charges as a matter of principle. Also he sort of sees us as the future of the party. So ultimately logic and loyalty to the party should make him go with us.”

“Don’t get fooled, Peter,” Noel responded. “Not everyone is as straight and honest as you, Peter. He ain’t against bribery and corruption in principle. He’s against us being caught with our pants down over bribery and corruption. And if it occurs, do you sing out about it and let the perpetrators sink or do you do a cover up? That depends on how many of our side are involved. Including him of course. Hey, he must ‘ave pissed out last month’s entire beer intake by now.”

 Just then Andy returned. He looked relaxed and sat down to enjoy some tea from his mum’s teapot. As we tucked into the cakes he said. “This is a historic moment in the history of our Framden party. I’m afraid if Ted Grayson had put his hand in some Russian cookie jar then he must have to face the consequences and any other of our party colleagues too. I’m with you all the way, but you are right to keep a low profile on this. Let’s dispense with our usual party pre-meeting on Monday. I think we know how everyone will vote. Let’s leave Ahmed Kausar to his own devices. I’ll speak to Fred Potts again to make sure he is on side. For the rest we already know where they stand. Do we know what the opposition is doing?”

 “Sheldrake will obviously oppose the scheme. She is backing a meeting of the protestors on Monday evening. Stelios will be attending that meeting from our side. We assume that she will try and swing all her party colleagues against the scheme, even those like Richards who had previously supported it. But then remember she is the new leader of their group and Batchelor resigned. He had supported the scheme but Smallbridge said he had been bribed.”

“And the second minority party?” Andy asked.

“Well, who knows? I spoke to Gurcharan Khan. God, the guy doesn’t even know himself.”

Andy laughed. “Typical fence-sitters. It’s the history of their bloody party. OK so it looks like the scheme will be defeated on Tuesday. Well done, Peter. You will be the star performer now. However let’s not have a witch-hunt afterwards. We’ll just get the guilty ones to retire quietly.”

“But they are criminals,” shouted Meena. “Why should we let them go?”

“I think, Meena,” I intervened. “What Andy is saying is that it is up to the police to make the case stick. We will stand aside while the cases come up in court, but we do not condemn them until they are convicted. If we get too involved we could end up with internal bloodletting that might involve the innocent as well as the guilty.”

“Quite! Well put, Peter. I see that we see eye to eye. Also we can barely afford one by-election after Emil. We don’t want three or four or five by-elections after this set of revelations. We would definitely lose control of the Council. I shall certainly not vote for the scheme on Tuesday and wish you every success. Also I won’t breathe a word about this to Grayson or Kitson. Thank you for coming.”

“And do thank your mother for the lovely tea,” re-joined Meena.

Noel returned home in his own car.

Meena got into my car. I drove off cautiously, keeping my eye out for suspicious vehicles.

Meena rang Melanie. “Hi! Everything OK? We’re all set for Tuesday on our side. It’s looking good. Can we still meet you this weekend? Sure. Sure. Tomorrow afternoon. OK for you, Peter? Three o’clock? OK fine. See you then.”

“Thanks Meena. At one stage I thought we might visit her with Andy Trosser. But it would be too huge a culture clash. What’s more, after today’s meeting I’m not sure if I can actually trust him. That trip to the loo was quite extended. He obviously phoned somebody. But who?” 

“Can’t trust him further than I can throw him,” chimed in Meena. “Can I trust him more than I can trust you?” she added suddenly.

“What! What do you mean, Meena?”

“What’s all this about Special Branch then? I knew nothing about this. We’ve worked together all this time and you’ve not said a word to me about it.”

“First, Meena, cooperating with Special Branch is not something you sing about from the rooftops. It tends not to look good in your CV. Secondly; they only made contact with me literally ten days ago. It was after the public meeting. And thirdly, that’s why I wanted you at the meeting with Andy Trosser, so that you know all the facts that I know. OK?”

“I’m not sure if it’s OK. Does Melanie know about this?”

“Your little friend Melanie has been in touch with them for months. In fact she led the Special Branch to me. And you, Meena, led me to Melanie. If you care to remember, that is? So ultimately, at the end of the day, Meena, my dear, you led me into the welcoming arms of Special Branch. Happy now?”

“Not really,” she sulked. “Where were you last night? You didn't answer me all night." I did not choose to answer such a petulant question. None of your business, I thought. She waited in vain for me to break the silence.

"Well, I don’t like being ignored and I don’t like being patronized. Just take me home. I shall have to think about our future cooperation.”

“I see,” I said as I dropped her outside her house. “No nookie tonight then?” I said cheekily.

“Not with you. Go find yourself a dirty magazine, Peter. You can even read it when you’ve finished with it.”

Nice! Nice girls are not so nice when they are angry, it seems. Or worse, jealous. Perhaps I had better make it two magazines.  

 

The next day our meeting with Melanie took place in the opposition leader’s office. Meena had allowed herself to be collected without protest, our last exchange of views apparently forgotten now. We thought Melanie’s new office would be the most discreet place to meet, particularly as the Civic Centre is normally deserted on a Sunday except for specific events taking place in any of the large halls on the ground floor. A sign of the new atmosphere of fear in the civic building was the presence of a uniformed policeman sitting unobtrusively in the corridor outside Melanie’s office.

Melanie greeted us warmly and offered us a coffee. She seemed a little tired, but she was in the middle of preparing her speech for the PPRAC public meeting on Monday evening. The notes for that speech would also serve for the decisive meeting on Tuesday. Normally the last thing I would be doing was swapping information with the opposition on tactics for a coming Council meeting but the circumstances were quite unique and our joint opponents were not any specific party but the developer himself and his minions.

I explained to Melanie that of our seven members it appears that only one will be voting for the project, although the voting intention of a second one was a little ambiguous. We knew that two of our side had been threatened to either vote for the project or stay away but both were now under police protection. Melanie claimed that of her five councillors, four should oppose the development and one of those thought that he had been threatened but he too was under police protection. The remaining one, David Richards, was an independent businessman involved curiously in the Russia trade. He had happily worked with Melanie’s predecessor, Algernon Batchelor, in supporting the development and was quite oblivious to Melanie’s arguments. However as it looked like the scheme was facing defeat the odd maverick vote on either side of the political fence would not be that important. Neither of us gave much thought to the remaining third party councillor in view of his stated misgivings about the development.

“However, Peter, whatever you do,” said Melanie, “don’t get too self-confident too early. These people have invested a lot in this scheme and they are ruthless. They are like a computer virus working away into our democratic due processes and undermining our colleague’s and our officers’ professional objectivity by huge sums of money. They have wealth undreamed of. We have only our wits and our principles. It’s like jury rigging. Even as you batten down one hatch, another opens. Even now they could be talking to any one of our colleagues, cajoling, flattering, bribing, blackmailing, extorting, while we sit here crunching numbers and trusting our democratic system. Let’s just recount this on the day.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” I replied. “But we also have the element of surprise. So far they are convinced that I am on their side, as well as Andy Trosser. They know they have been intimidating Angela Craven and Noel Graham so they are counting on their support for their scheme or their absence on the day. It’s because they think they can win that they may get complacent.”

“Oh, come on, Peter,” Meena interjected. “You call what happened to Sir William Tallis on Friday and to Angela and the Grahams yesterday as being complacent, do you?”

 ”No, fair point, but they may be thinking that they have everything in the bag all the same and they may not realize that some of their dead certs are actually not so certain. Incidentally, Melanie, talking of Sir William, have you seen his letter addressed to us.”

“No, but I’ve heard about it.”

“I can show you a copy if you want to photocopy it in your office. They don’t know apparently that we have a copy so keep it under your hat. We will have the letter read out at the Planning Committee. Please, please don’t say anything about it at the PPRAC meeting tomorrow night.”

“Will you be there at the residents’ meeting?”

“No, not now. I might let something slip in the heat of the moment. You’ll just have to portray me as the bad guy that you always do. Please find some redeeming features about me. Like yeah, he’s an evil planner and he’s always in the pocket of big business, but he’s a good kisser.”

“I won’t be that flattering about you. Forget it. Anyone there from your side? Noel Graham? Councillor Karamanlis?”

“I think Stelios Karamanlis. Be gentle on him. He’s not your enemy. Just a simple local ward councillor trying to serve his community and convinced that his political masters are working with the developers.”

“You mean just trying to save his seat.”

“Two other things about the Planning meeting. When we get to the item in question, Stelios as the local ward councillor will present the petition. I spoke to him this morning. He will not be scoring any party political points and he will be referring to the meeting which you are organizing. Then Chris Finneston will comment as usual on matters not covered on the written agenda, particularly late representations. That will be his last contribution as far as I am concerned. If he fails to mention the objection from the water authority, the comments by the GLA about the listing of Daffodil Hill as a strategic London panorama site, and the objections based on the new London Development Plan then my hidden weapon comes into operation. All these missing items will be listed by one of the junior planners who is now briefing me directly. Then I am asking Noel Graham to move that the outline planning permission be refused. He will read the letter from Sir William to the Committee. Presumably then you will want to do the same. It actually gives you a chance to demand from Finneston any details about the identical numbering of different plans. After that I will be referring to the motion as the joint motion of Noel and yourself. Happy with that?”

“Not really. First you speak and then Noel Graham? You’re getting all the extra limelight.”

“No, I don’t speak. I only chair the meeting. Noel is the voice for our side.”

“OK, I’m happy with that.”

“The other thing is that I want no ambiguity in the voting. I will call for voting by poll so that every committee member is called out in alphabetical order and states whether he or she is for or against the motion.”

“Like it!” she exclaimed gleefully. “That will raise some hackles. I take it standing orders allow this. You’ve checked?” I nodded. Actually I had not checked it, but now that I had Melanie’s approval I was going to impose it anyway.

“Well that will add to the drama!” said Melanie, “especially as my name is nearly the last alphabetically. So they will have to wait to the end.”

“You see, Meena. Melanie is ever the drama queen.”

“You know something?” Melanie added. “I thought I was going to hate cooperating with you, rather than attacking you. I loved our little wars. But actually this should be fun too.”

“Well it was becoming a popular spectator sport in the council,” joked Meena. “Even the press was latching onto it. I thought you two might get a TV spot. This cooperation is really rather boring.”

 “Don’t worry Meena this cooperation won’t be for long. Now then, what about poor old Sir William? I was talking to Roger and he agreed with my suggestion that we visit him in hospital. Are you game with that, Peter?”

I was not. I had my Russian visitor. I had only agreed to this meeting with Melanie because I was counting on being back in my flat to meet Ludmila by 5 o’clock. I’d had enough of politics for now and I needed a break. But all I said was, “I can’t, I have a visitor.” 

“What kind of visitor?” asked Meena, suddenly alarmed.

“Just a constituent,” I lied. “It’s a long-standing appointment. This person is visiting me in my flat.”

“The police had warned me about any private visitors during this crisis,” said Melanie. “The same must apply to you. Don’t you have a bodyguard?”

“No. They offered me one, but I said no.”

“How noble,” Melanie said sarcastically. “So get yourself killed then.”

“I hear you originally refused having a bodyguard too.”

“Yes, but I changed my mind in the end. If I have an accident how can I help the cause? It’s common sense, you idiot.”

“If I have a visible bodyguard, they will know what role I will be playing on Tuesday.”

“Argue what you will, Peter. That is just mock heroics. OK, just remember to be careful.”